


What else is there I can buy you with?

by PrettyCalypso



Series: Prompts [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Explicit Sexual Content, Ian is hired to find dirt on Mickey, M/M, Presidential Candidate Mickey, Private Detective Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:24:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6902062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyCalypso/pseuds/PrettyCalypso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt: "Ian is a private detective, he is hired by some people for find dirt on Mickey who is running for become the next President. He is winning and all the world knows that he is gay. Ian, trying to get closer to Mickey, he falls in love with him. They become the couple most beautiful and loved all over the world. How Mickey reacts when he learns the truth?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	What else is there I can buy you with?

**Author's Note:**

> So I FINALLY wrote this prompt somebody sent me on Tumblr a while ago. Sorry it took so long anon...  
> I did not stick to it exactly, I changed some stuff, and it's not very long, but I had a lot of fun writing in this sort of Noir ambiance.  
> Also, the first lines of the story, the name of the secretary, and the title of the fic are all a big reference to a classic of the Noir genre, if you recognize it let me know! ;)

 

Ian Gallagher had a square jaw, a straight nose, and the memory of freckles adults have that are only visible under a certain light. His green-blue eyes were horizontal, and his red hair were slicked in a stylish way on his head.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he said to Effie Perine as the lanky sunburned girl with a flowery dress entered her boss' office.

“There are people who want to see you.”

“Customers?”

“I guess so. Black suits, scary faces, they could also be hit-men or CIA I wouldn't know anyway.”

Ian leaned back against his dark leather chair – the kind of chair that made him look more powerful than any client who walked into his office.

“Alright.” he said. “Let them in.”

The secretary opened the door again, following it back into the reception, standing with a hand on the knob, and asked for the men to come in. Three bulked up guys in designer suits walked through the doorway. Two stayed by the door, and the middle one, slightly less muscular, stopped just in front of Ian's desk.

“Mr Gallagher?”

“Himself.”

The redheaded man hadn't move from his chair, looking at his interlocutor from under his long eyelashes. The man in the suit glanced back at the secretary, and the girl retreated at her desk in the reception, closing the door behind her.

“My boss has heard you're the best in your business.” the man finally explained, his eyes back on Ian. “And he wishes to purchase your services.”

“Your boss? And who might that be?”

“He's a very discreet man. You only need to know he is ready to offer you a significant amount of money for a very delicate mission.”

“What kind of mission?”

The man stayed silent for a beat, obviously assessing if Ian was trustworthy enough, or competent enough to take the job. Eventually, he pulled a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket and dropped it on the redhead's desk. The PI took it only to discover it was an article cut out from a newspaper relating the outcome of the latest polls about the upcoming presidential elections, and one of the candidates' head had been circled in red.

“Mickey Milkovich. He is winning, and my boss can't have that. We need as much dirt on this man as you can find.”

“How much is _'a significant amount of money'_?” Ian asked.

“If you do your job right, you could close this joint and retire in the Bahamas for the rest of your life.”

“And what kind of dirt are we talking about?”

“The kind of dirt that would bury his political career for good.”

Ian stood up to shake the man's hand.

“I think your boss might have found his man.”

As he accompanied the three men back to the front door, the redhead met his secretary's eyes. She waited for the door to be closed behind her boss' new costumers, before asking her question.

“They were not very good men, weren't they?”

“Indeed they weren't, Effie.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I'll do my best, as usual.”

The girl nodded. She never questioned her boss' methods, or the type of clients he accepted, no matter how bad they looked.

“Effie, could you get me a meeting with Mr Milkovich's campaign manager please?”

“The presidential candidate, sir?”

“Yes, that man exactly.”

  


******

  


The office was dimly lit, with dark-wood floor and dark-wood furniture, but the walls were painted purple and hidden behind several campaign banners, as well as other more random posters. The woman, wearing a very elegant dark blue ensemble, and her dirty blond hair styled in a tight bun, sat on a very out-of-place Louis XV chair, nodding for Ian to take place in front of her on the sofa looking straight out of a therapist's office.

“Mr Gallagher. Your reputation precedes you.”

The redhead smirked.

“I'm sure what you've heard is a lot more flattering than the truth.”

The woman's eyes shone with a playful light usually seen on children.

“I'd like to be the judge of that myself...”

“I'm afraid I'm not interested in that type of relationship with you Miss Milkovich.”

“Too bad, I've been told to be quite the catch.”

“So have I.”

The campaign manager leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“What do you want?”

“Anything you can give me on your candidate.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Maybe there is something you need I could give you in return.”

“He's my brother. I won't sell him out.”

“Really? I've heard it didn't stop you before.”

Power at play, the PI and the campaign manager looked at each other in the eyes, letting the silence surrounding them settle, waiting for the other one to cave-in first. And the woman finally sighed.

“Alright. What do you need?”

  


******

  


Ian wasn't a stranger to this type of clubs, but he had never pictured Mickey Milkovich to be fond of the exuberant, rainbow-colored gay scene that was a place like the Fairy Tail. Yet, he did found the candidate there, sipping a beer near the bar on a low key Tuesday night. It would have been hard for the common people to recognize the public figure with those simple tight blue jeans and black shirt, but the PI was there only for him. He sat on the adjacent bar stool and looked into those deep blue eyes.

“Who told you where to find me?” the candidate asked. “My assistant, Sam? He's a talker.”

“Your sister actually.”

“Should have known...”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“I already have one.”

“Let me buy you the next one then.”

Ian gestured toward the flamboyant barman in his glittery tank top, who approached them with a smile.

“What can I get you?”

“Another beer.” the candidate answered, his eyes not leaving Ian's.

“I got craft brews, a Stout, IPA, Winter Wheat...”

“Just beer.”

The barman nodded, barely hiding his discontent for the Milkovich's rough tone of voice.

“What about you?” he asked Ian.

“Same.”

Once the barman out of sight, the PI let his hand slide toward the candidate's, touching it softly with the tip of his fingers.

“I won't spill any political secret if it's what you're looking for.”

“I never said that's what I was here for.”

“Oh, so you're just seeking for a good time then?”

“Maybe I am...”

  


******

  


The bedroom door flied open and the PI pushed his candidate roughly inside, their mouths devouring one another. He shoved him down on the bed and they crawled up on it together. Ian moved to kiss down the other man's jaw and neck, leaving a hickey just above his collarbone, before he sat up to pull both their shirts off. The Milkovich tried to help, but Ian was quick to capture his lips again. The kiss was biting as Ian pushed the candidate down on the mattress, and moved away to leave wet open-mouth kisses in every sensitive patch of skin he could find, from the spot just above his collarbone to the right side of his ribs, until he was low enough to be able to drag the man's jeans and underwear down in one swift movement. The candidate ran his hands through Ian's hair as the redhead nipped at his tights. And then he had the Milkovich's cock in his mouth, and the man nearly choked on his breath. Ian wrapped his fingers around the length his mouth couldn't cover and worked both his hand and his lips at the same time, bobbing, and sucking, and jerking. The man gripped at Ian's hair tighter, and the redhead swallowed around his cock, pressing his nose into the thick black pubes at the base as he deep-throated him. The man groaned and reached down to trace Ian’s lips where they stretched wetly over his erection. Ian cocked his head to the side, just a little bit, and slid the candidate’s dick into his cheek so that the man could run his fingers over the bump there.

“Fuck. I need you in me...” the Milkovich breathed, and the PI smiled, pulling away with a loud _pop_.

“Turn over.”

The man obeyed, burying his face in the pillows, but not before handing Ian the lube and condom he had obviously grabbed earlier. The redhead slicked a finger and slid it in the other man's ass, finding it already loose enough for two fingers, if not three. Ian smirked, and scissored him some more, while unbuttoning his pants with his other hand. He pulled his jeans and boxers just low enough on his hips to be able to free his straitened erection, and rolled the condom on himself. He took his fingers out, and eased himself inside the other man. The candidate sighed deeply and reached around to grab at Ian's ass and draw him closer. The redhead rolled his hips, pulling away and slamming back in

“Harder.” the man grunted, and the PI obeyed, accelerating his movements until the other man was sobbing in pleasure.

Ian's grip on the candidate's skin was so tight it would leave marks, and both men were shaking, their hips rolling forwards and backwards, loosing their rhythm, the pace fast as they both stumbled closer and closer to the edge.

“Close.” Ian mumbled, his voice barely audible, and his hand reaching for the Milkovich's leaking cock.

The other man moaned in agreement. The sound of their skin slamming together melting with their shattered breaths and low groans. Both pairs of eyes clenched shut, their grip on each other's bodies tightening even further before they finally came. Ian first, the candidate following a few seconds behind.

 

******

  


As Mickey Milkovich snored softly on his bed, the PI got dressed and explored the apartment silently. It was a spacious penthouse with modern black and white furniture. A leather couch with a few elegant throw pillows, facing a large flat screen TV, and in the corner an angled fireplace in slate. An open plan kitchen with a wide marble counter and elegant recycled bar stools. A grand bathroom with an Italian shower, and a beautiful bathtub large enough for two grown men. All in all, it wasn't the luxury of the apartment that struck the PI, but the obvious clues leading him to believe that the candidate wasn't living alone, from the pair of toothbrushes above the basins in the bathroom, to the different sizes of shoes in the entrance. The candidate was in a serious relationship and there was no denying it. As the PI put his coat back on and left the apartment, he couldn't help but think this would only make his job easier.

  


******

  


The three men in suits were already waiting in his office when Ian came in. He had Effie call them earlier, and he was ready to give them what they wanted. The two gorillas stood by the door, exactly like last time, and the third one raised from the chair he had been sitting on when Ian closed the door behind himself.

“Mr Gallagher, you work faster than my boss expected. This can only mean good news for your retirement plan.”

“I would certainly hope so.” Ian answered as he sat at his desk.

“What do you have for us?”

“Candidate Milkovich is a very interesting man who is not afraid to speak the truth about his private life, or share his sexual preferences with the voters. He did based his campaign on honesty after all. But there was one thing he kept silent for a long time, one thing I am now able to give you.”

The PI took an envelop from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to the eager looking man.

“I hope your boss will use this information well.”

  


******

  


It had been a long day, and Ian was more than happy to finally come home. He fumbled with his keys for a few seconds before opening the door, and dropped them into the bowl on the console in the entrance. He took his shoes off, and hung his coat on his usual hook. He walked to the kitchen to grab a cold beer from the fridge, swallowed a long sip, and went to sit carelessly on the couch. He had just closed his eyes when he felt soft lips on his forehead. The kiss was short but comforting. The PI opened his eyes and smiled.

“So, what did you give them?” the other man asked, sitting next to Ian.

The redhead smirked.

“I gave them our engagement announcement.”

Mickey laughed.

“You sneaky bastard.”

“Hey, it's their fault for hiring me to dig dirt on you. They should have done their job better and realize you don't ask a PI to investigate on his fiancé.”

“How did they react? They didn't look like the kind of guys who like to be mock.”

“I guess they were less powerful and dangerous than I thought because they just blushed, stuttered, and walked away.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, I like it when you leave kudos and/or comments, and I'm always here to talk with you about... anything, really.
> 
> You can also come say hi or send a prompt on my tumblr (and I still don't know how to link it): ilostmylifeonline.tumblr.com.


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